Ash, Zwei, and the young Master had been waiting for five days in the cold void of space.

Unlike planets bustling with life, space was eerily silent—an absolute quiet that tested the resolve of even the most seasoned travellers. Many avoided long space voyages for this very reason, finding the oppressive stillness unbearable. Prolonged exposure often led to frayed nerves or complete psychological collapse. For Ash, however, the silence was almost comforting. Years of solitude on Garbage Planet 12 had inured him to isolation. If anything, a noisy environment would have unsettled him more.

Yet, beneath Ash's calm exterior, his emotions churned—a swirl of curiosity, fear, apprehension, and longing for what lay ahead. For Zwei and the Master, however, the silence was a trial. Ash sat cross-legged, eyes closed as if in rest, but he was in a state of hyper-awareness, alert to every faint vibration. Seeing Ash's stillness, the Master tried to distract himself by striking up a conversation with Zwei, their voices a feeble attempt to stave off the oppressive quiet.

Then, an unfamiliar noise broke through the silence.

Ash's eyes snapped open, and in one fluid motion, he was on his feet. Zwei and the Master froze, their gaze drawn to the pulse relay station. On the holographic display, a massive convoy of starships materialized.

The Master and Zwei gasped in astonishment, their initial fear quickly replaced by joy. "We're saved!" the Master exclaimed, throwing his arms around Zwei in excitement. Her golden hair framed a face now glowing red with embarrassment, the flush extending to the nape of her neck.

Ash, however, remained impassive, scrutinizing the convoy. His sharp eyes noted the sleek lines of the vessels and the occasional deployment of mechs from the side hangars. Their precise movements suggested the ships had already detected their small vessel.

The Master released Zwei and turned to Ash with a grin. "Terrible sound for an alert, isn't it? I knew I shouldn't have used that makeshift alarm."

Their ship's pulse radar had been nearly beyond repair, its internal mechanisms corroded. Yet, with the Master's ingenuity, it had been coaxed into partial functionality. As for the alarm, he had repurposed a rudimentary sound device, much to his dissatisfaction. "Next time, perfection!" he declared, his natural pride as a tinkerer showing.

Zwei darted to the console and activated the emergency signal, sending a flashing beam into the void. Almost immediately, the convoy's mechs accelerated towards them. Despite their increased speed, their formation remained impeccable—a clear sign of rigorous training.

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"Do we have weapons?" Ash asked, his tone level but firm. His habit of staying prepared for any scenario meant he was always looking for an advantage.

The question caught the Master and Zwei off guard. "If there's a mech on board, even better," Ash added.

Zwei shook her head regretfully. "No unregistered mechs here. The only ones we've seen belonged to the passengers who... didn’t make it. But those mechs are family-bound, requiring specialized resets from their respective houses."

Ash’s disappointment was evident, though he said nothing.

The Master’s face lit up with an idea, and he dashed to a corner of the room, rummaging through a pile of discarded tools. Moments later, he returned, holding a sleek black dagger. "I made this just for fun. It’s usually my utility knife, but maybe it’ll come in handy!"

Ash examined the weapon carefully. The blade’s edge was razor-sharp, its grip ergonomically designed with a non-slip coating. Its overall balance and durability were excellent, but Ash frowned. "Good flexibility," he said, bending the dagger into an arc before letting it snap back into shape with a faint twang. "But the curve design is awful."

The Master gawked at the display of strength, his jaw hanging open. Hearing Ash’s critique, he scratched his head sheepishly. "Well, I wasn’t thinking much when I made it. Just a hobby project, you know?"

Zwei wasn’t surprised by Ash’s physical prowess. After all, she’d witnessed his incredible feats of strength before—he was no ordinary human.

Zwei considered donning her micro-mech, but the Master stopped her. "That flashy suit of yours isn’t exactly subtle. It’s fine for home, but here? Way too conspicuous. Besides," he teased, "it hides your beauty under all that armour."

Zwei blushed and averted her gaze, a small smile forming on her lips.

Their vessel shuddered as a mech from the convoy made contact. The team’s leader, Jin Mo, entered, his sharp gaze sweeping across the trio. His eyes lingered on the Master, whose refined manners and composed demeanour radiated nobility. Jin Mo recognized these traits instantly—only families of deep heritage, steeped in tradition, produced individuals like him.

But Jin Mo was pragmatic. A connection to such a family could mean limitless wealth and opportunity. His eyes gleamed with anticipation.

Engaging the Master in polite conversation, Jin Mo was equally aware of Zwei, whose ethereal beauty captivated the crew. Though they tried to maintain decorum, hushed whispers and stolen glances betrayed their fascination. A few bolder souls even gathered near the main corridor, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

Unused to such attention, Zwei squirmed under their stares, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Of the trio, Ash was the least remarkable in appearance. His unassuming features and lack of charisma made him fade into the background. When the Master introduced Ash as his "guardian," Jin Mo raised an eyebrow, his sceptical gaze assessing Ash’s lean build.

Only the convoy’s mech commander spared Ash a second glance. His eyes narrowed in quiet contemplation, sensing something beyond the surface.

Jin Mo quickly restored order, reprimanding his men before resuming his animated conversation with the Master. Tales of distant worlds, daring adventures, and fascinating cultures soon filled the room. Even Ash found himself listening intently.

For now, the mood was light, but none of them had any inkling of the peril awaiting them just beyond the horizon.